


Why We Do Not Speak Of What Happened With The Coffee

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Series: Bellator 'Verse [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bellator 'Verse, Christmas Present for my fear followers and friends, Coffee, Defend Not The Man But The Mind side story, Endangered Species, Endgame Olicity, F/M, Homo Bellator Custos, Merry Christmas!, The coffee oneshot you have all been waiting for, Yes the coffee oneshot, You can thank me later - Freeform, caffeine high
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5517818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Yes, I know you love coffee, but after what happened last time Laurel said you’re not allowed coffee without adult supervision.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"What happened last time with coffee?” Lance questions, his eyebrows raised.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“A lot of weird stuff we don’t talk about,” Felicity responds.</i>
</p><hr/><p>The story of the first time Oliver AKA The Arrow, the <i>homo bellator custos</i>, first encounters coffee since his return to Starling City.</p><p> <i>Reading Defend Not The Man, But The Mind is not necessary. Read Author's Note before continuing.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Why We Do Not Speak Of What Happened With The Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Defend Not The Man, But The Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4925572) by [AlexiaBlackbriar13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13). 



> Merry Christmas! As a holiday present to my wonderfully, amazing followers and friends, here is what everybody has been asking for:
> 
> The story behind why Oliver is not allowed coffee. Or al least not without adult supervision. Entirely in Felicity's POV. You ask, you shall receive. :)
> 
> For those new readers - Background:  
> Oliver was genetically experimented on during his five years away and is now a new species called _homo bellator custos_ , a species created to be warriors and protectors. He returned to Starling to defend and protect his city, save the good humans and eradicate the bad. His allies include Tommy, Laurel and Felicity, but they don't know his name and haven't seen his face, and know him by his alias 'The Arrow'. A conservation wanting to tag and track the species is after Oliver. Tommy, Laurel and Felicity are helping him hide from them.
> 
> Thank you so much for everybody's support and appreciation. That's the best Christmas present I could ever ask for. I hope you enjoy your gift. :)

As soon as she’s parked her car next to Laurel’s and stepped out of it, straightening her glasses with one hand and grabbing the take out bag in the other, Felicity turns around and is met with inquisitive, curious blue eyes peeking out from under a dark green hood. She jumps at first, heart beat spiking, shocked at the Arrow’s sudden appearance behind her, but then she breaks out into a grin when she catches the hint of a smile in the shadows of the hood, and the relaxed way the Arrow is holding himself.

He may be a different species, but sometimes he just acts so unbelievably human. It’s incredible, really. He has some animal-like habits, Felicity notices sometimes - during that first week where she had intitally began to get to know him especially; he growls sometimes like a threatened wolf, and chitters like a jaguar and very occasionally he purrs like a house cat. His reactions are mostly animal as well; when Felicity had first brought her laptop to his den, he had circled it cautiously, before sniffing at it and poking it until he got familiar enough with it.

“Hey!” Felicity greets him, smiling. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he answers. “Tommy and Laurel are in the den.” He presses up closer and although Felicity doesn’t allow him to take the bag straight away, he bats it with his hand, trying to get her to open it slighty.

She checks her watch, to find it’s late evening, nearing eight o’clock. “Shouldn’t you be out patrolling right now?”

“Hmm?” the Arrow’s so interested in finding out what food she has brought with her, mostly because usually Tommy brings the food, that he’s a little thrown by her question for a moment. “Oh. No. I’m going after a druglord in the Glades tonight so - you know, I can start later.”

That’s all the better for her, because she gets to spend more time with the Arrow. She treasures her time with him like it’s diamond, because she knows that once he’s been tagged by the conservation, she probably won’t be able to see him again. “Cool! I brought Big Belly Burger, so do you want to take this -” She places the takeaway bag in his arms and ducks back inside her car to grab the two drinks’ trays. “Don’t open it! I’m trusting you with the food. I’ll bring drinks.”

She locks her car and the two of them walk together into the Foundry and then down the stairs that the Arrow has cleared for Felicity, Laurel and Tommy to have easier access to his den. Tommy and Laurel are seated at the counter where Laurel is sorting through new papers she has procurred on the Arrow’s species, while Tommy is playing tetris on his phone.

“The food has arrived!” Tommy crows in happiness as soon as Felicity and the Arrow come into sight, leaping to his feet and trying to grab the bag, but the Arrow growls at him and he backs off, but still hovers as the archer sets it down. “Oh, thank god, I’m starving!”

“So you’re not bothered that I’ve arrived, you only care about the food?” Felicity raises an eyebrow, setting down the drinks next to the food and fixing a mock-stern look on Tommy.

Tommy plasters an innocent look on his face. “I have to prioritise, ‘Licity,” he says.

“And food trumps friend, in your mind,” she replies, unimpressed.

He quirks an eyebrow, shrugging. “Guilty.”

“Hey, Felicity!” Laurel greets her, too enrapted by the papers she’s sorting through to turn around, but at least she’s said hi. Better than her boyfriend at any rate. “What kind of food did you bring?”

“Big Belly Burger,” the Arrow answers for her.

“Oh my god, I could kiss you,” Laurel says, quickly looking over to flash a smile.

“And here I thought that I was your sweetheart,” Tommy pouted, batting his eyelashes at her.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Laurel said shortly, but still grinning, turning her back on them.

“You know you love me really,” Tommy quips.

“Don’t push your luck.”

Felicity rolls her eyes because she’s got used to Merlyn’s antics by now, and he grins back at her before sitting back down, letting her sort out distributing the food and the drinks. At first she has to clear the counter, because the Arrow’s bow and quiver are in the way, but the _homo bellator custos_ quickly picks them up and drops them in his nest so she has more space.

Tommy stored some spare paper plates down in the den a few days ago and the Arrow brings them to her without her even needing to ask and she nods in approval, thrilled at the way he perks up and purrs for a few seconds in response. Popping off the lids of the drinks, she splits them into hot and cold - she’s brought cups of coffee for all four of them, and then vanilla milkshakes for after.

“What’s that smell?” the Arrow questions, drowning, watching her every movement over her shoulder.

He’s asking exactly the right questions. She turns and pats him on the shoulder, pleased. “That,” Felicity says, grinning widely, “Is the glorious, life-changing smell of coffee, Arrow. The best drink in the Universe.”

“If you don’t count any sort of alcohol,” Tommy pipes up from behind her and when she wheels around to glare, he keens under her glower and adds weakly at the end in surrender, “Kidding.”

“Alcohol?” the Arrow repeats. “I’ve heard of that.”

“You will not be drinking it,” Felicity says sharply. They don’t know anything about the Arrow’s metabolism, and she refuses to allow him to waste away or ruin and damage his body by letting him drink.

The Arrow wrinkles his nose from under his hood. “I wasn’t planning too. I see humans in the Glades acting strangely, throwing up and hurting themselves and others after they drink it.”

“Good,” Felicity nods. “No alcohol. You’re lucky we’re even letting you have coffee.”

“Ooooh, I heard coffee,” Laurel calls, standing and stretching out.

Laurel’s enthusiam changes the mood of the room since Tommy brought up alcohol, lightening it. “I’ll bring it over,” Felicity tells her, smiling.

“You’re a lifesaver, Felicity.” 

Felicity beams back before picking up the little sachets of milk and sugar, preparing to open them. The Arrow picks up one of the coffee cups, and quickly puts it down again, getting closer to it and sniffing, as if he’s not quite sure what to make of it. Felicity forgets about the food for a minute and watches him, amused. It’s kind of funny to see how he reacts to new things, and she’s pretty certain he hasn’t had coffee before, or at least he can’t remember having it before.

“It’s hot?” he asks confusedly.

Realisation hits her. “Right, you haven’t seen a hot drink before. Or you can’t remember if you have. Yeah, it’s hot, it’s meant to be. There are other hot drinks as well, like tea and cocoa, I’ll bring them around for you to try another day.”

“Is it safe to drink?” he questions.

“Sure. It might be a little hot though, so it might burn your tongue, but once it cools down slightly, it’s great to drink. Especially when it’s cold. Not - not when the drink’s cold - when the outside is cold. The weather that is.” She gazes down at the coffee, tracing the cup’s rim. “I love hot drinks. Cocoa when watching movies on the couch, tea when de-stressing and coffee every single morning.” Felicity prepares her, Laurel’s and Tommy’s coffees like how she knows they like them and passes them to them, before continuing, passing the Arrow his own cup, “You can have milk and sugar in coffee as well, but I think maybe it would be better for you to try it black first. Then if it’s too strong, we can add some milk, and if it’s too bitter, some sugar.”

She turns around and begins serving out the curly fries, burgers and onion rings onto the paper plates equally, humming under her breath, and just as she reaches sideways across the table to grab the little plastic container of coleslaw, she notices out of the corner of her eye that the Arrow’s doing something strange.

He’s standing in the middle of his den with his coffee cup in his hand and he’s vibrating. Literally, his whole body is vibrating all over, and he’s looking down at the coffee and for one horrific moment, Felicity thinks he might explode in anger because he drank it and it burnt him, or that he doesn’t like it and is about to cry out, but then his eyes dart upwards to catch hers.

And they’re completely and utterly wild.

“Er… Arrow?” she asks slowly, putting down the coleslaw container and fully turning towards him worriedly, raising her hands slightly and taking a few steps towards him, but she’s ever aware that he still thinks humans are dangerous, so if he’s having some sort of breakdown, he’s going to want her to stay back. “Are you… okay?”

Laurel and Tommy both glance up at her words, bemused, before they too see the Arrow’s strange reaction and stand slowly, coming to join Felicity at her side, exchanging concerned looks.

“I’m fine,” the Arrow says. “Actually, I’m great. You’re great. Everybody’s great. Oh, you know what’s great? This is. Coffee is. Coffee is amazing. I love it. You should bring coffee every day. Wait, what’s more than every day? Twice a day. Yeah, you should bring coffee twice a day, Felicity. It’s great. Have I already said that? I think I have. I love coffee. Coffee is amazing.”

Okay, now Felicity is seriously wigged out. She stares in shock at the moment before she suddenly realises what’s going on. Caffeine. Coffee is caffeinated. And the Arrow has never had caffeine before - well, he’s never had food or drink so high in caffeine. His body probably doesn’t know how to process it, and it’s making him react weirdly.

The Arrow is high. He’s on a caffeine high.

“I knew I should have bought de-caf,” she groans, face-palming. “How much of that have you drank?” She steps forwards to peek into his cup, and she internally slaps herself when she sees that he’s drank about half of the cup already. “Well, great. You know what, Arrow, I think you’ve had enough coffee, how about I just take -” She lunges for the cup.

The Arrow darts aways before she even gets close and before she even knows it, he’s perches up in the Foundry’s old structural beams, high above them and she knows there’s no way in hell she’s going to be able to get up there, not when Felicity’s gobsmacked that even the Arrow is able to get up there. Due to there being very little natural light in the den, and the only arteficial lights are set up over by the work counters, the Arrow’s almost entirely hidden by shadows, save for his luminous blue eyes that gaze down at her.

“Okay, Arrow, very funny,” she calls up to him. “Come down now. I don’t think you should drink any more of that -” The empty disposable coffee cup is thrown at her head and she has to physically duck to avoid it, proud of herself because the Arrow’s aim is usually fantastic. “That was just rude!”

“This shouldn’t last long… right?” Tommy says, sounding unsure.

“Depends on his metabolism,” Laurel replies.

“We need to get him down from there,” Felicity sighs, turning to them. “Any ideas?”

“Yeah. Let’s _not_ give him caffeinated coffee next time,” Tommy suggests dryly. Laurel whacks him over the head and he rubs the point of impact gingerly. “Ow. Okay. Amending answer. Let’s not give him _any_ sort of coffee, _ever_.”

“I meant any ideas for how to get him down, Tommy!” Felicity snaps. “If you’re not going to contribute, then you might as well leave!”

“Whoa, calm down there, Smoaky.” He raises his hands in surrender, squinting up at where the Arrow is perching high above them all. “We could try coaxing him down… you know, with food.”

Laurel runs a hand through her hair in frustration. “He’s not a dog, Tommy.”

“He’s not any sort of animal,” Felicity corrects. “But it’s worth a try I guess.” She picks up the Arrow’s paper plate with both hands and strides until she’s directly under him, looking up at him and lifting the plate up to head height. “Arrow, if you come down, you can have Big Belly Burger! It’s here, all greasy and salty and tasty!” Instead of the _homo bellator custos_ jumping down, he leaps across to another beam with a spring in his feet, his eyes alight with energy and wildness. “No - Arrow - come down! You can have food!”

Except the archer doesn’t want food obviously, because he gives another massive jump, scrambling onto another support beam on the opposite side of the room. Now she can hardly see him at all as he’s quite a distance from the arteficial lighting now, hidden by shadows. Exasperated, Felicity places the plate back down on the counter with a huff, but then the Arrow’s moving quickly, dropping down onto the floor again, and she realises in horror that he’s not after food.

He’s after more coffee.

He snatches up Laurel’s coffee cup with a gleeful look before clambering back up onto the structural beams like a freaking green orangutan. Felicity rushes to grab Tommy’s cup too, dumping it down the drain in the room designated as the bathroom slash locker room where spare clothes and an improvised shower are located. Tommy makes to protest, but Felicity glares at him, and he quickly shuts up.

“Felicity, I think you’re gonna have to go all alpha female on him,” Laurel says.

“What?” she asks, frowning confusedly.

“Be the leader of the pack,” Laurel explains. “Order him down.”

“He won’t listen to me!”

“Oh, he will,” Tommy scoffs. “He loves you. He worships the ground you walk on.”

She blushes scarlet, an uncomfortable feeling flashing through her. The Arrow surely doesn’t think that much of her. She’s one small, insignicant human being in his strange, complicated existance. “Tommy, that’s not -”

“It’s true,” Laurel agrees.

“Yeah, sure, he’s your boyfriend, you have to agree with him,” Felicity scowls.

“Boyfriend? Boyfriend? Mates.” the Arrow sings from his position in the rafters. He’s rocking back and forth with the coffee cup cradled between his hands, the hood covering his head so she can’t see his eyes or face. He’s obviously still high on caffeine, judging by how loose-lipped and loopy he’s acting. “They’re mates, Laurel and Tommy are mates, boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend, they’re mates, they’re gonna make babies -”

“Hush, Arrow!” Felicity barks, wheeling around and pointing a finger at him warningly.

He whimpers and promptly shuts up, and Tommy and Laurel shoot her pointed looks, like she’s just proved their point. Felicity purses her lips. She can’t fault their logic - the Arrow does listen to her, hangs onto her every word actually, but giving him orders, taking command over him doesn’t feel right. He hardly has any freedom in his life already, with the police and conservation chasing him, taking charge of him would be wrong. Felicity would feel like she was personally betraying the Arrow if she even attempted to take control.

But then the Arrow starts bouncing about, back and forth across the structural beams, and she knows that if he falls, he’ll be in a lot of pain, and she can’t stand that thought. He’s not going to calm down any time soon, not after drinking that second cup of coffee, and this caffeine high seems like it isn’t ever going to end, so she sighs and runs a hand over her face before straightening her back, inhaling deeply and exhaling calmly before marching into the centre of the den.

“Arrow, get down here right the hell now!” she commands loudly, putting power and force into her words and tone, crossing her arms across her chest tightly, fully aware that Tommy and Laurel are watching her from the other side of the Foundry. “I am not asking, mister, I am ordering you to stop acting like a hyper four year old and behave like the sensible, mature vigilante _homo bellator custos_ you really are!”

She only has to wait a minute until the Arrow swings down from the structural beams and silently drops down in front of her, still vibrating and shaking with energy, his hands twitching and feet tapping on the floor restlessly, but his head bowed guiltily, his bright intelligent ceruclean eyes that are still somewhat fierce and feral filled blinking at her. Laurel hurries over and very carefully prises the half-full coffee cup out of his hands, rapidly disposing of the hot liquid down the drain and throwing the coffee cup in their trash bag.

Felicity deflates slightly at the archer’s guilty expression, sighing and drawing up her chair and pushing the Arrow down into it, motioning to Tommy to grab some water. He brings over a bottle from Laurel’s stash and passes it over to her.

“Drink this,” she tells the Arrow, unscrewing the lid for him. “Slowly. Small sips. But I want all it gone, mister.” She turns to Tommy. “Could you get some organic apples, oranges and bananas? He’s going to need a lot of Vitamin C. Laurel, you’ve got some lavender oil, right?”

Laurel rummages around in her purse until she pulls out the tiny bottle, smiling while handing it over. “Knock yourself out. Tommy, there’s a bag full of fruit in my car, in the passenger footwell, you can bring it down.”

Tommy flashes her a smile and departs to fetch the fruit bag, while Laurel settles back onto a chair, content to watch Felicity deal with an overly hyper homo bellator custos. Sighing, Felicity presses her hands down onto the Arrow’s shoulders, trying to stop his vibrating with energy, taking the empty bottle of water from his hands. He seems to have calmed slightly, and she wants to get him into his nest so he relax, rest and come down from the caffeine high, but she would prefer for him to eat something first.

“Felicity,” the Arrow says, drawing out her name as he gazes at her, tilting his head. She respectfully looks away when the hood falls slightly off his head, reaching with her hands to pull it fully back on. But then he leans into her hand. “Fe-li-ci-ty. Felicity. Felicity. Hmm. Felicity.”

“Yes?” she replies patiently.

“I like coffee,” he drawls, pushing his head into her hand like a cat, and then a deep rumbling erupts from his chest. Felicity and Laurel exchange amused, surprised looks, because the Arrow is properly _purring_? “Can I have coffee again? Not now. Not coffee now again. But again, again. Sometime again.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” she says flatly. “No coffee for you. Ever again. Not even decaf.” Then, suddenly, to her shock, he sniffs. “Are - are you crying?”

“I like coffee,” he repeats, voice nasally and yeah, he’s crying. “I want coffee again.”

Felicity shoots a helpless look at Laurel. She shrugs in response. Not helpful. “I’m sorry, Arrow, it wouldn’t be a very good idea to let you have coffee again. We don’t exactly want a repeat of today.”

“But I like coffee,” the Arrow says, yet again, as if that’s the answer to everything. “Coffee makes me very happy.”

She hates it when he’s upset. He’s like an adorable whining puppy. She’s always had a soft spot for puppies. And when he says it makes him happy - all she wants really is for him to be happy. At peace. At rest. Safe. She can’t help but give in. “Well, I suppose -”

“Felicity,” Laurel interrupts, a warning clear in her voice.

“I can’t say no to him when he’s crying and sad like that!” she whispers fiercely at her friend. “Look at him!”

Laurel crosses her arms, obviously not charmed by the Arrow’s happy/sad puppy act. “How about this then. He’s not allowed coffee unless a mature human adult is here to supervise. Unless I’m here to supervise.”

“I’m a mature human adult,” she responds, a little offended. “Tommy is -” Laurel raises one eyebrow and she huffs and rolls her eyes in response. “Alright. I suppose that’s a fair deal,” she mumbles.

When Tommy arrives back with a bag full of fruit, she thanks him quietly before picking out an orange and peeling it. She hands segment by segment to the Arrow, encouraging him with stern looks and soft words to eat the slices until he’s finished it. Then, with Tommy’s help they heave him up and deposit him gently in his nest.

Pushing him down until he’s lying flat, Felicity orders, “Rest. Close your eyes.” She raises the small dropper bottle of lavendar essential oil. “This is going to help you relax. It’s just oil, it’s not going to hurt you, okay? Trust me on that.”

She dabs a little onto her fingers and then, taking car not to draw back his hood or look too closely at his face, she softly massages and rubs the oil onto the skin on his upper lip, just underneath his nostrils, fingers scraping against his stubble. He makes that growly purring sound again which makes her smile, before he obeys her order and the archer closes his eyes, drawing his blankets around him.

Felicity sits back against the wall and waits until the homo bellator custos drifts off into some kind of sleep before standing, stretching. She glances towards Laurel and Tommy. “Guess he’s not going to be going out patrolling or taking down that druglord tonight,” she says dryly. “Come on, we can take the food and eat it at my place. I have red wine, which I think we’re all gonna need after tonight.”

“Amen to that,” Tommy replies. “I’m going to need at least two glasses.”

“Not a problem,” Felicity sighs. She casts a quick glance over at where the Arrow is now curled up asleep in his nest like a puppy snuggling into blankets, swiping up her notebook from her bag to write a note. “Better let him know where we’ve gone…”

“We can come back in the morning,” Laurel suggests. “Check on him.”

“Can you get a hangover from caffeine overdose?” Tommy smiles. “Because if you can, that’s gonna be one hell of a shock for him tomorrow morning. I should probably feel sorry for him, but after chasing him around for like half an hour, nah.”

Laurel cuffs him over the head again and Tommy mouths, “Ow!” glaring at her, which makes Felicity laugh, shaking her head at their antics. They pack up the food, leaving a paper plate for the Arrow in the morning, before gathering their bags and stuff, preparing to take their leave for the evening. Just before they leave, Felicity kneels down next to the Arrow and brushes her hand under the hood to run her fingers through his hair and he hums in his sleep.

“Goodnight,” she whispers as she gets to the top of the stairs, not expecting a response but feeling like she should say it just the same.

She closes the door behind her just as the quiet reply sounds: “Goodnight.”

* * *

“You look terrible,” Felicity says, her eyebrows shooting up as she catches sight of the Arrow shooting arrows at tennis balls as she enters his den at half nine in the morning, half expecting him to still be holed up in his nest, groaning. “You feeling okay?”

“Little off,” he replies heavily, his voice sounding weighed down, and when he turns to her she gazes into tired, drained blue eyes. “You never mentioned coffee would do that.”

“It usually doesn’t. Must have been your metabolism.” She trudged down the rest of the metal staircase, lifting the bag in her hand to show him. “More water bottles and oranges. You need the hydration and Vitamin C. Hopefully it should help you feel better.”

“Thanks.” She chucks an orange over and he catches it effortlessly, rolling it around in his hand. “I can’t even remember half of what happened last night.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Felicity winces. “Just… don’t mention mates to Laurel and Tommy the next time you see them.”

He looks up at her, grimacing. “I didn’t call them - Oh. I did. That’s… great.”

“They knew you were high,” she reassures. “So they probably know it was only in jest. Or if it wasn’t… they’ll know you weren’t in your right mind while saying it.” She leans in slightly. “Although, between you and me, I thought you were on the right track.”

A swift smile cracks on his face and he sets down his bow on his weapons counter, unclipping his quiver to sit down on a stool and begin peeling the orange. “So where are Tommy and Laurel?”

“Well, Tommy drank a little too much red wine last night at my apartment, mixed it with a beer, I think a few shots afterwards as well, so he’s nursing a massive hangover.” The Arrow shoots a questioning look. “A really bad headache, sometimes vomiting, aching all over and feeling generally awful,” she explains. “Laurel’s probably with him, whacking him with pillows and forcing ice water down his throat.”

“Wine is alcohol?” the Arrow asks.

“Yes, it is. And like I said last night, you will never be drinking it. That now applies to coffee.”

“I really liked coffee though.”

“Yes. You did say that last night. Numerous times. But everything else that happened last night cancels that out.”

He frowns down at the orange, playing with the segments. “I’m not going to be allowed to have coffee again, am I?”

“Not any time soon,” Felicity replies, pointing a single finger at him. “And not without adult supervision. So don’t get any ideas. And if you’re really serious about wanting coffee again, you won’t ask for it, you’ll wait until we bring it for you.” She shudders just at the thought of having to suffer the Arrow on a caffeine high again. “We don’t speak of what happened last night, okay? And I see that look on your face. No coffee. Not for you. Not for at least a month.”

“Oh.” The Arrow slowly eats one segment of the orange.

Felicity closes her eyes and facepalms. “You were going to ask for coffee, weren’t you.”

“... maybe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos and comment! Will be greatly appreciated :)
> 
>  
> 
> **MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!**


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